The Prophet of Bohohemia
by Hazel Fae
Summary: Mark is going to celebrate Passover, but what happens when his friends get involved? Two-part story. First story with us writing together. Toni's 1st fic. R&R, my pretties!
1. Madness

A/N: Soo

A/N: Soo...it's the seventh day of Pesach, or Passover( for those who don't know), and I've decided to have some fun with Marky and the rest of the Bohos. Here are some things you need to know:

A Seder is a traditional celebratory Passover dinner.

Matzah or Matzo is unleavened bread that looks like a giant cracker. Almost anyone who keeps Passover hates it by the end of eight days. :-p

Charoset is probably the best part of Seder, a mix of apples, dates, apricots, cinnamon, etc., you can almost never get tired of this!  
Horseradish is something that a little bit of will clear out your sinuses, but too much will blow your head off. Just ask Hadassah...

The afikomen is a piece of Matzah that is hidden, kind of like a hide and seek game, usually played by those under 13.

The Haggadah is a little book that has a bunch of Passover songs, prayers, and stories in it.

Disclaimer: Larson(who was Jewish, fyi) is Almighty, bask in his glory.

ANGEL LIVES!!

The Prophet of Bohemia

"Mark's camera is gone, Collins, he's disappeared!" Roger whined. He had spent the past half hour scouring the apartment for the filmmaker, but with no result.

"Chill, man," Collins said. "He probably is just out filming people at the Life. He'll be back before you know it." Suddenly, a clatter started in the stairwell outside of the apartment. The lock clicked open, and in staggered Mark who was carrying five heavily laden grocery bags. Without even looking at his friends, he stumbled into the tiny kitchen and dumped the bags on the counter. Out of an overflowing one, he pulled out a pink box and started filming it.

"April 24th, two p.m., eastern standard time," he sang, "For the next week I have to eat this shit. Eww, matzah."

Collins picked up the box and inspected it closely and reproachfully. "Mate-zo?!" He questioned.

"No, it's pronounced Maat-za. You know, with an ah sound." Mark corrected. "More like an ughh sound." Roger interrupted, "You should hear him rant about the stuff!"

"You mean you eat this cardboard? And where did you get the money for all this?" It was Mimi, leave it to her to sneak into Roger's apartment unnoticed.

"First of all, Yes I eat this 'cardboard'. And secondly do you think my mom would let me skip Passover? It's kind of a, I don't know, A HUGE DEAL!!" Mark was ballistic.

"Easy, Marky, easy," soothed Roger. "Why don't you film us while we unpack?"

"Love to, can't," snapped Mark. "I have to turn this into dinner before sunset, 'cause I was actually going to **cook** for you guys tonight." Everyone gasped. Mark never cooked. Then, Angel came to the rescue, slipping in through the slightly open door.

"Mmmh, I'm just starving! What have we here? Horseradish, looks fine to me." Angel prepared to open the jar with a spoon in her hand.

"Are you INSANE?!" yelled Mark.

"No, but you seem to be. What was all that yelling about anyway? That's why I came up in the first place." She replied placidly.

"I was just... but... that wasn't..." Stammered Mark. "Why is everyone in my house anyway?" Trying in vain to change the subject.

"I already told you. You're yelling loud enough to wake the dead." She then dipped a spoon into the open jar and popped it into her mouth. Mark cringed as she swallowed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Angel screamed. "HOT, HOT ,OWWWW!" The drag queen was clutching her head and jumping up and down.

"Can't say I didn't warn you," Mark said calmly, as he turned around to chop some apples.

"Aw, my poor Angelcake," crooned Collins. "Will a kiss make it better?"

"Absolutely," breathed Angel, just as her boyfriend's mouth met hers.

"Ahem... what was that you were saying about dinner, Mark? Are you actually going to cook?" Mimi said smoothly, interrupting Angel and Collin's kiss.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I was just starting to dice the apples for the Charoset."

"Ho- what?!" It was Angel again back from her momentary make-out session.

"You guys are really butchering pronunciations this afternoon. Ha-row-set, it's a mixture of apples, dates, apricots, and all things good." Mark answered, now moving on to matzo ball soup.

"I hate to admit it, but this won't be ready in time unless those with at least a mediocre knowledge of the culinary world helps out. Any volunteers?" Mimi and Angel walked over, smiling. Then Angel shot Collins a reproachful look. He stepped forward, looking very guilty.

"You'd be surprised what you learn when you teach," he said as a smile crossed his face.

"Wonderful, now let's get down to business. Angel- you're chopping, I'll give you more instructions later. Mimi- uh... set the table. Roger—

"I didn't volunteer!!"

"Too bad, get another table. Collins you can help me make the matzo ball soup, but guys don't burn anything! All Benny needs is one excuse to kick our asses out of here."

With everyone diligently chopping, setting, carrying, and cooking it seemed too good to be true. Problem is it was.

"Oh Mark I'm so sorry! I just bled all over the dates! Oh I'm so sorry!" Angel wailed desperately.

"Are you kidding me Angel? You should be more concerned about yourself! Someone throw out the dates, and Collins, run down to your place and grab some cleaning stuff, that can't get infected!" Mark yelled amidst the chaos.

" You got it chief," Collins was trying to keep things light, but his voice betrayed him. "Meems, watch Angel like a hawk. She has to wash that cut out right now." And with that, the professor raced out of the apartment.

"C'mon girl, you heard Collins," she said as Angel was escorted out of the kitchen.

"Oh, Roger," called Mark in a sing-song voice. "Your presence is requested in the kitchen."

"Oy Vey," muttered Roger.


	2. Dinner & A Profession of Undenying Love

Disclaimer: Larson is Almighty, bask in his glory.

Dinner, Games, and A Profession of Undeniable Love

After much frantic bandaging, cleaning, and cursing, Collins had dressed Angel's wound and got her back on her feet, without singing _Today 4 U_, fortunately. In all of the commotion, Maureen and Joanne had also entered Mark's apartment uninvited.

"What the hell, everybody?!" Mark screeched. "I need people to help or GET LOST!" He then started to slam his head against the wall.

"Marky, you do realize that everything is ready?" Maureen said as she pulled him away from the wall by his scarf.

"Wha'?" Mark slurred as he looked around. It was too good to be true. Everything was ready, except the food needed to be put in serving dishes. He breathed a gigantic sigh of relief.

"Man alive, now I know why my mom was such a neurotic bitch at Passover." He said, voicing his thoughts aloud. He could remember countless times his mom had, like him, yelled for people to "be part of the solution, or you're being part of the problem.", along with a few other choice words. That was how he knew every curse he ever heard and them some.

"Uh.. well..., erm... we need some more bowls, platters, serving dishes, and plates. Roger and I only have two dishes, two bowls, two forks, and two spoons. Do you guys mind pitching in, I mean you've already been such a huge help?" Mark requested, trying to get back on everyone's good side.

Everyone agreed and dashed back to his or her respective apartments to gather dishes. As they brought them back up, Mark chuckled, realizing how much they said about his friends. Angel's was long and pure white with a scattering of silver stars, Maureen's was lime green with purples spots, Joanne's was a practical clear set along with matching wine glasses, Collins had set of red and black dishes along with a set of silverware, and Mimi brought up pale pink china which was a gift from her mother.

"Alright everybody, out out OUT!" Roger bellowed, shoving Collins out the door. "Meet back here at seven thirty or face Mark's PMS."

"I DON'T HAVE PMS!"

"Whatever you say Marky, whatever you say..."

Going maaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaad!

(time elapses)

7:30 pm, the Loft

"Zoom in on Angel, arriving with Collins, still looking fabulous, even out of drag," intoned Mark.

"No please, no, not tonight please, no... oh whatever just have a seat!" sang Roger, mocking the stubborn waiter at the Life.

"What's with all the singing?" inquired Maureen, waltzing in the door with Joanne, but her question had to go unanswered because the rest of the Bohos sat down on the couches around the makeshift table that was groaning under the weight of the various dishes. Mark then stood up to begin the ceremony.

"If you didn't know most traditional, "by-the-book" Seders take up to four hours and are steeped in tradition and pomp. I say: screw it! We're not only celebrating the freedom of my ancestors, but the freedom all of our ancestors have experienced over the years" Mark looked around at everyone sitting down, "and the freedom of expression we live by now. So why not bring that into tonight's festivities? So to start, I would like to propose a toast: To Bohemians everywhere!"

After a loud "To Bohos!" Mark made another announcement.

"For those who don't know there is a game played by young kids after dinner, which is rather like hide-and-seek, except you're searching for a hidden matzah, the afikomen. Now instead of a simple game like that I've decided to make a bit more... well... interesting." Mark began, but was cut off by Roger muttering "here we go" under his breath.

"As I was saying, I'm adding a twist, a bet to be specific. I have already hidden the afikomen somewhere in the loft. The winner is allowed to pick a loser who has to profess his or her love for Benny over the phone. Anyone who wants to can take part, except for me of course, but by joining you're up for grabs as a loser." Mark explained. "So without further ado, let's eat!"

After a few songs, a couple translated prayers, lots of wine and laughter, and way too much food, the Great Afikomen Hunt was ready to begin. Everyone but Joanne ,who refused to play, listened intently to the rules: no teams, no bribing, no fighting, no backing out once the game had begun, and no going off into rooms for a little "fun".

"Everyone ready? Begin!" Joanne cried. Everyone but Collins took off in random directions. He, on the other hand, headed straight for Mark's room. Tapping on the wall next to the window, he found what he was looking for. A hollow sound echoed through the dark bedroom. He pushed, then released the pressure. With that, the depressed section popped open, revealing a cluttered mini-closet filled with old tapes, some screenplays, seven yearbooks, and a worn baseball glove. He found the piece of matzah, wrapped in a green napkin, right next to the glove. He closed the passage back up, and raced into the center of the loft.

"Check it, bitches! I found it!" moans came from every corner of the apartment.

"Well Collins, where was it?" questioned Mark, who was tapping his foot, looking smug.

"In your "secret" mini-closet," Collins said triumphantly.

"Damn! How'd you find out about it?" Mark asked, vexed.

" Remember who was the first owner of this abode? I remember taking your scrawny ass in after you had just moved away from Mommy."

"Hey, you put out that poster in the Life Café. I remember it said "Wanted: roommate or roommates for a three bedroom apartment. Racists, ignoramuses, or homophobes need not apply. "I nearly fell over laughing because it was on pink stationary with those name and number pull-off tabs on it."

"Admit it skinny boy, I gave up my room, and you never thanked me once!"

"Now you two, give each other a hug and tell each other that you're best friends." Angel said, only half kidding.

"No thanks, but I'll give you a hug." Said Collins, reaching over to pull his boyfriend into a long embrace.

"Now give Marky a hug and choose the loser, honey." This time, Angel wasn't kidding.

"Are we cool, man?" inquired Mark.

"You bet your skinny ass that we'll always be!" exclaimed as Collins and Mark shared a typical guy hug, complete with hitting each other on the back.

"I hate to break up this little love fest, but..." Roger began, but stopped when Collins and Mark got very diabolical looks on their faces.

"Ding Ding Ding, Roger you've won!" Declared Collins. Roger looked perplexed, he thought that he had lost.

"Well Mark, come on down and tell him what he's won!" Collins intoned in his phony announcer voice.

"Roger you have won the chance of a life time, you no longer have to hide your feelings, you get to tell Benny how you feel about him!" Mark barely got the last words out before collapsing into a fit of laughter.

Mark handed him the phone and Roger dialed the number of Benny's cell phone, it rang twice before Benny picked up.

"Benjamin Coffin the Third." Benny answered in a bored voice.

"Uh... Benny, it's Roger, we need to talk." The Bohos were grinning, they had put the call on speaker-phone, and Mark was recording it all.

"Look, you're not going to get free rent if that's what you've called about, so can it." Everyone was suppressing laughter.

"No Benny, it's not about rent, in fact, it's not about the building at all, it's about you and me. I don't know how to begin, but I've always seen something special in you ever since you padlocked our building. Benny, I will love you always and forever, I've even written a song for you." Everyone was laughing, except Maureen, who had to go get another pair of pants, because she had wet herself from laughing so hard.

"Really Roger? I love you too! Can I hear the song?" Now everyone was howling or rolling on the floor with tears streaming down their faces.

Roger proceeded to play Musetta's Waltz, which Benny did not recognize because he was an uncultured piece of yuppie scum.

"Roger that was... beautiful." Benny said with a sniffle, his eyes beginning to tear up. "Will you meet me in the Life Café tomorrow at eight? I would really like to reestablish the connection that we had when we lived in the same building."

"SUCKER!" Shouted Roger, while the Bohos were laughing so hard that Mark puked. "This was just a bet and I lost!!" Benny immediately hung up, completely mortified. He never called to demand rent so the Bohos didn't have to pay! (A/N: Then, one of the authors(Toni) felt bad and gave Benny a hug, while the other author made Mark feel better & cleaned up the chunder.)

As everyone started to leave, Mark poured the remainder of his wine glass into a half- full one in the center of the table that no one had drank out of. He then opened the doors and all the windows, until Roger came in.

"What are you doing? Did the wine go to your head?" He asked.

"No, no" said Mark "It's just an old tradition. Supposedly, a prophet called Elijah visits every home with a Jew living in it. The unused but full wine glass is "for him", but it's just an old superstition. I just felt that Passover wouldn't be complete if I didn't do it."

"Whatever, just shut the windows when you're done," said Roger as he left the flat to go downstairs to Mimi.

Mark looked out one of the windows, taking in the fiery hues of the sunset. He sighed deeply as he looked up.

" Please, a sign, just one little sign," he whispered.

Just then, a baseball flew into the open window. He caught it one handed and looked down. A little boy with glasses stood across the street. His blonde hair was spiked up in the front.

"Hey mister, can I have my ball back?" he called.

"Sure," Mark said and threw it back across the street. Then, the boy's mother shouted to him.

"Anthony, hurry up! Did that glass of wine at Nana's and Papa's go to your head? Oy vey, I told them you were too young!"

"Thanks, mister!" the boy yelled.

Mark waved to him, and then turned away from the window, smiling.

uHusHuHHHu


End file.
